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by Thomas E. Harvey

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When Spring unlocks the flowers to paint the laughing soil.
reginald heber
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Now Nature hangs her mantle green
On every blooming tree,
And spreads her sheets o' daisies white
Out o'er the grassy lea.
robert burns
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Yet Ah, that Spring should vanish with the Rose,
That Youth's sweet-scented manuscript should close!
The Nightingale that in the branches sang
Ah whence and whither flown again, who knows?
omar khayyam
The quick brown fox
Jumps over the lazy dog
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Thus sung the shepherds till th' approach of night,
The skies yet blushing with departing light,
When falling dews with spangles deck'd the glade,
And the low sun had lengthened every shade.
alexander pope
text 1920s american artdeco broadway newyork nightclub modern minimal broadbay normal thomas e. harvey
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